


Extended Family

by Emerald_Shadow



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Miraculous Ladybug, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Akuma Attack, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Found Family, M/M, family au, superhero family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_Shadow/pseuds/Emerald_Shadow
Summary: Marinette was careful. She was known to be clumsy and forgetful and some other unflattering adjectives that she doesn’t bother to remember because there was no reason to. She was good at pretending. She was good at acting like everything was okay, like she didn’t have as many secrets as she did, like she didn’t hide most of her life from everyone in her life. She was good at pretending to be clumsy and forgetful, good at pretending like she was ordinary, good at pretending like she was nothing more than a College student. She was good at pretending not to be a super-heroine, good at pretending that Uncle Tones and Uncle Bruce were just distant relatives in the states, good at pretending like nothing important happened to and around her, good at pretending she didn’t know someone’s whole life story at a single glance. Of course, that, unfortunately, didn’t mean the rest of the world was good at pretending those things alongside her.
Relationships: John Watson & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Tony Stark, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Bruce Wayne, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Comments: 17
Kudos: 364





	1. Chapter 1

Marinette was careful. She was known to be clumsy and forgetful and some other unflattering adjectives that she doesn’t bother to remember because there was no reason to. She was good at pretending. She was good at acting like everything was okay, like she didn’t have as many secrets as she did, like she didn’t hide most of her life from everyone in her life. She was good at pretending to be clumsy and forgetful, good at pretending like she was ordinary, good at pretending like she was nothing more than a College student. She was good at pretending not to be a super-heroine, good at pretending that Uncle Tones and Uncle Bruce were just distant relatives in the states, good at pretending like nothing important happened to and around her, good at pretending she didn’t know someone’s whole life story at a single glance. Of course, that, unfortunately, didn’t mean the rest of the world was good at pretending those things alongside her. 

She hadn’t lied about her uncles, not to her classmates and not to both of them explicitly. She just hadn’t bothered to mention much about either of them. And that meant karma came to bite her in the butt. For a Ladybug, she didn’t feel particularly lucky at the moment. 

“Wayne.” Uncle Tony’s disdainful and condescending voice could be heard through the damn door.

“Stark.” Uncle Bruce’s voice wasn’t much better but he was better at pretending to be polite, even if it was in a passive aggressive way. 

Two words and Marinette’s shoulders were tense and her mind was both in overdrive and shut down at the same time. ABORT ABORT ABORT!   
Further adding to her growing panic and misery, her classmates and Mlle Bustier heard the voices too. And they all froze for a moment, processing the words and voices outside their classroom door. Marinette wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the Earth at that point. This was not going to go well and Marinette could already tell that she did not have the patience to deal with two prissy billionaires.    
The only good thing about having two American uncles who came to visit her in France is that a very small percent of the population could understand the rapid fire English that left their mouths as they tried to one up each other. This was her only saving grace however but the fact that names were the same no matter the language they were said in, with only the slight accent-related pronunciation error, was not a good thing. Because the two childish billionaires burst through the door with disdain clear on their faces and a group very confused teens trailing behind them. Great. This could not get any worse. 

Peter waved shyly at her and Marinette offered him a weak but present smile while Dick waved more enthusiastically. Jason looked confused but extremely amused as his eyes skipped between Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne who were currently engaged in a very intense looking stare off that Marinette would hate to get in the middle of. Tim was clutching a large coffee mug from her parents’ bakery like it was lifeline, looking dead to the world but with his phone raised to record his father and Tony Stark silently trying to stare each other into submission. Damian was looking on with similar confusion and disdain, though most likely for the fact that the Waynes were embarrassing themselves like this. Harley was silently snickering next to Peter, his own phone raised as he watched with Morgan settled half in the crook of his arm and half on his hip, looking eager to leap from his hold and run up to Marinette herself and babble her ears off about her latest invention. 

Marinette let out a long suffering sigh as she got up from her seat and marched down the steps to look her uncles in the eye -sort of, they were both taller than her. Her hands were on her hips and a single eyebrow was quirked in a way that she learned from Auntie Pepper and Grandpa Alfred and knew would make the two childish adults pay attention to her. 

“Uncle Tony, Uncle Bruce, what’s going on?” She asked as calmly as she could and took a more pleasure in sight of the indignant sputtering on both billionaires than she probably should have but it didn’t matter because dammit she was tired. 

“He’s your Uncle Tony/Bruce!” they exclaimed at the same time as Jason and Harley burst out laughing behind them. Dick snickered while Tim smirked and Peter looked a little confused but amused. Morgan and Damian were very confused but it didn’t matter because their reactions were so worth it.

Her phone began to play soft violin music and Marinette’s shoulder slowly untense at the melody that she grew up with. Just like Uncle Sherlock to call right on time. She finished her phone out of her pocket and pressed the answer button before lifting it to her ear, not bothering to check the caller ID.    
“Hello Uncle Sherlock! Haven’t heard from you in a while. Is there something I can help you with?”


	2. Chapter 2

Most family reunions, Marinette knew, were nothing like the ones she had the opportunity to experience -she couldn’t say ‘fortune’ or ‘misfortune’ as she wasn’t quite sure which one could possibly be applied to her situation. They were generally held at the home of the family member most central to everyone and had enough space to host all of them without everyone feeling like a mess of people shoved into a sardine can. Normally were also planned. But as previously established, Marinette’s family was by no means normal; several of the members of said family also sneered at the mere thought of the word, not to mention their reaction should the word be applied to them. So the surprise family reunion was not a development she hadn’t planned for in some sense of the word -Uncle Myc would have been extremely disappointed if she hadn’t and she didn’t want to disappoint Uncle Myc- and she had entertained the idea of introducing all of her different families to one another but under no circumstances did she ever consider introducing them like this. 

So, instead of causing an even larger scene by having Uncle Lock and his associates barge into her classroom -well Uncle Lock would barge and the people with him would follow to prevent him from causing even more chaos-, Marinette set about corralling all of her relatives and shoving them towards the exit. No one really protested, all to mystified by watching their unassuming, shy, doormat of a classmate heard two of the richest and most influential people and their families out of the room like they were misbehaving toddlers. 

“Please, please , please don’t make a fuss!” She pleaded to them in English desperately hoping that they would not cause anything that would warrant further attention from the people around them, “I know I have to explain a lot but can we do that later? Preferably at one of your hotels?”

Apparently the two Americans weren’t as dense as she feared and dutifully shut up until they made it out of the building. Marinette couldn’t help but sigh in relief, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that sounded a bit too much like Uncle Myc for comfort that was telling her things could still go spectacularly wrong. Channeling the influence of Uncles Lock, Tony and Bruce, his menatlly shoved that influence on her psyche aside and if she was tempted to flip that voice off, than she would gladly attribute it to Sherlock’ and Tony’s influences without a second thought if confronted about it. 

Unfortunately, she should have listened to the whispering voice of Uncle Myc in the back of her head, because almost as soon as the large group of them left the building, Uncle Sherlock descended upon them in a flurry of heavy blue fabric and grinning excitement. Marinette caught a few brief glances of Doctor John Watson from behind Sherlock and assessed him in the way that her Holmes’s uncles taught her to, though much more subtle than Uncle Sherlock tended to do and a little less intensely than Uncle Mycroft preferred to do. She didn’t voice any of her observations about the former Army doctor, just stored them for later use but a smirk lifted the corner of her mouth at something she noticed that warranted further examination. 

Sherlock completely ignored the Wayne and Stark clans, grabbing Marinette’s arms with a slightly manic grin and began speaking a mile a minute, rattling off the details of a case that had brought him to Paris. Marinette focused on her British uncle wholeheartedly, knowing from personal experience that it was very important not to brush anything he said aside as useless. Sherlock Holmes did not waste time with unimportant details. Though, to be fair, he did sometimes accidentally overlook a couple of quite important details because he got tunnel vision more often than he would ever admit to.

“I’m sorry,” Tony did not sound apologetic at all, “but who are you?”

Sherlock’s pale, iridescent eyes ran over the crowd of people with a scowl on his lips. Once his eyes snapped back to Tony, he opened his mouth to begin rattling off observation after observation to gain some sort of upper hand. However, he was cut off by Marinette clearing her throat and pushing herself between her two more violently tempered Uncles. 

“He is Sherlock Holmes, my father’s cousin.” Okay, so technically, ‘Uncle’ wasn’t the right term to refer to Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes’s by but Marinette had always thought of them as such and so they had adopted the role wholeheartedly.

Bruce immediately snapped to attention, his gaze scrutinizing Sherlock, Tim doing much the same while Harley quirked an eyebrow at Marinette with an amused smirk decorating his face. Peter stared at Sherlock with an awestruck expression on his face, Morgan and Jason presenting a united front by staring at Sherlock with a very confused expression. Damian was nearly leering at the British man, his arms crossed over his chest and emerald eyes scanning him for a threat. Tony merely raised an unamused eyebrows and crossed his arms, hip cocked and lips set in an impatient scowl. Marinette’s eyes slowly slide closed as she sighed through her nose, her expression making it very clear that she was bracing herself for a very difficult few hours to come. 

“Please introduce yourself to him. Uncle Sherlock doesn’t really pay attention to current events.” That might have been the understatement of the century and from the disbelieving way Doctor Watson was shaking his head just behind Sherlock, it was clear that he was thinking something along the same lines as Marinette herself was regarding the current situation they found themselves in. 

“Tony Stark.” Tony said in that same condescending tone, the one that had lesser men running and Marinette groaning internally because it was almost physically hurting her not to let her resigned frustration show on her face.

“Bruce Wayne.” Bruce, at least, was not outright antagonistic -thank Kwami for small mercies- but he was a lot more intrigued and open to making Sherlock’s acquaintances, even going so far as to offer him a handshake.

Sherlock, just as Marinette anticipated, glanced down at the millionaire’s hand and said, “dull,’ in the most emotionless yet unstressed voice Marinette has ever heard any human being use in her entire life. 

Marinette heard herself and Doctor Watson sigh in the same way, at the exact same time as Sherlock brightened and redirected his attention to the French bluenette, “Murder! Right here in Paris. Mycroft was agreeable to arrange everything, though I have to say, a seven usually doesn’t warrant travel but Paris.”

He said the last word as if it explained everything and to Marinette it did but to the rest of the people around them, it meant next to nothing. Sometimes Marinette disparaged the lack of logic possessed by the general populace and right now was one of those times. Just because one was a millionaire superhero who built The Iron Armor or a millionaire vigilante dressed as a bat by night, did not mean one was logical. And here was concrete proof of just that. 

Heaving one more sigh, Marinette rather loudly asked, “Who wants some ice cream?”


	3. Chapter 3

Suggesting ice cream worked like magic. Everyone was momentarily distracted from one another and scrambling to find out which direction to head to obtain said cool, creamy sweet. Marinette smiled, relief clear in her eyes. So maybe this isn’t going to be a total disaster after all. In all honesty, in retrospect, she was sure she had jinxed it with that previously thought. Her cousins’ voices clamored to be heard over one another while the adults, specifically -especially- Sherlock, raised their eyebrows in a rather dubious manner. Tony and Bruce also wore twin expressions of long suffering. They knew what she was doing. Getting revenge on them for showing up in her school in the middle of the day by getting their charges high on sugar. Marinette suppressed the urge the smirk smugly.

She shouldn’t have expected anything less but the moment she opened her mouth to suggest they go on a manhunt -not completely literally- to find Andre and his ice cream cart -rest assured she had a plan that required his assistance- an explosion rocked the city. Nothing good could possibly come of that, for so many reasons that Marinette nearly burst into tears over it. A shockwave of hot air followed the loud BOOM! that nearly deafened the whole city. Maniacal laughter and high pitched screams and cries for help followed as the akuma wrecked havoc close by. 

Marinette squared her shoulders, her soft blue eyes hardening into steel as she turned to her family, making sure they were all focused on her. One definite benefit of having two superhero Uncles with an innumerable amount of superhero cousins and Sherlock Holmes as an uncle was that none of them responded the expected way to an explosion, maniacal laughter and screaming. They all looked ready to head right into the fray, which was a nice change and meant that she didn’t have to calm them before jumping in to save her city. 

“Alright, everyone’s going inside. No one and I mean No One is leaving my parents bakery, understand. No, it doesn’t matter what you lot can do” -here she glared pointedly at the Bat and Iron brod- “nor how interesting and not boring you find this turn of events” -and now she glared at Sherlock- “This is not your conflict to get involved in. This will be handled and if any of you interfere, rest assured no one -NO ONE- is getting anything from me for five bloody months. Understood? Good.”

The petite noirette didn’t even wait for an answer, she had already turned on her heel and was running towards the commotion. She couldn’t help but beg Kwami that they listened to her for once. Just once, if they didn’t interfere or ask so many questions, everything would be fine. Oh, who was she kidding, they were definitely going to interfere and it would not be pretty or easy to explain away. 

“Hey bugaboo!” And just when Marinette had thought nothing else could get any worse. Chat hadn’t bothered to show up to akuma battles in nearly two months now. Why today, of all days?!

“Chat now is not the time!” she couldn’t help but yell as she lashed out with her yo-yo, hoping to keep the pyromaniac akuma distracted while she looked for the akumatized object. It looked like it might be the flame thrower, or that little spiky badge on the left side of his chest. Either or, it seemed. 

A column of deadly flame skimmed her side as she was distracted with trying to keep her ‘partner’ from being burned to a crisp. Her suit’s material prevented any extensive damage to her person but the heat was still painful and she would definitely have to dip into the aloe vera stash she kept for when she visited Malibu and got severe sunburn after a long day at the beach. She hissed in pain and unraveled her yo-yo, leaping away from the next searing flame that was headed in her direction.

Marinette was vaguely aware that the akuma was monologuing about something, though she had long ago learned to tune all of their babble out, because it was almost always a variation of ‘I have been wronged! Now I shall take my revenge! Give me your Miraculous!’. Honestly, at this point, it was just troublesome and boring. Deciding to take her chance with the flamethrower, because even if she didn’t get the akuma, she’d at least disarm him, the brunette began maneuvering her way towards the bright red and orange akuma victim. She had on several occasions had to behind a car, crouch behind some kind of pole, jump away from a suddenly flaming tree but she eventually managed to make it close enough to the akuma to make a grab for the flamethrower. However, there was a major downside to trying to grab a flamethrower while it was pointed at you. The person on the other end of it could pull the trigger and set you aflame. She didn’t even want to know where Chat Noir was. 

Marinette couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from her throat even if she wanted to as fire enveloped her torso and upper legs. Though, she didn’t become Ladybug for nothing and didn’t keep fighting for her city to see it set aflame just because she couldn’t make a grab for a gigantic piece of magical weapons. She could see the smirk on the akuma’s face, the purple outline around his eyes as he spoke in hushed tones but she didn’t give in. She made sure to maintain eye contact, make sure he focused on her pained face and not her scorching hands as she ripped his weapon from his grip. Thank you Uncle Sherlock, your teachings of deception worked wonders. 

The akuma screamed in rage as finally the fire assaulting the poor heroine stopped and she leapt away from him, the flamethrower clutched close to her chest. The akuma attempted to follow her and Marinette felt an irrational spike of fear at his approach. However, one didn’t stay Ladybug this long without knowing how to ignore your emotions and keep calm even in the worst situations imaginable. They continued their intricate dance for a few minutes, Ladybug zigzagging across the streets, leaping out of reach and staying on the defensive while the akuma got more and more aggressive in his pursuit of his weapon. It didn’t matter in the end because Marinette was able to break the flamethrower across her knee, completely ignoring the searing agony that sent throughout her body, and released the akuma within. 

From there it was a simple affair. Purify the akuma, cast her Miraculous Cure and make sure the authorities were taking care of the akuma victim before disappearing from the scene completely. She hadn’t seen Chat Noir since the beginning of the fight and she thanked Kwami for that. Her ladybugs had restored the damage done to the building around her, righted melted metal and ashes that used to be trees, curing the burns of her civilians. They mostly avoided her though, only the occasional one brushing against her cheeks to ease the pain, just how she liked it. They should focus on the city and not it’s heroine. She could take care of herself. 

The journey back to her room was slow and painful, the adrenaline in fading from her blood and making sure that she felt the full extent of the burns all over her body. Her Miraculous kept her from getting burned to a crisp but heat exposure at such close proximity definitely left her with some souvenirs of this experience. Dropped down through her window and onto her bed was painful and aggravated her injuries and screaming muscles but she couldn’t care any less. She was home and in close proximity of a large tub of aloe vera and that was all that mattered at the moment.

Home, also apparently included her whole extended family, who were all muttering amongst themselves, all looking distressed and angry. Kwami, this wasn’t going to be good. As soon as they saw her coming downstairs in only her workout top and shorts, covered in first to maybe second degree burn or two, it turned into a full out riot. Marinette had never been more glad that her parents took that catering job in Germany. Not only did they not have to see their daughter covered in burns, they also missed the sheer chaos caused by her uncles and cousins.

Doctor Watson was the one to immediately descend on her, his medical training presumably kicking in as he gently took her hand and raised her arm to assess the damage done to it then tilted her head up to look at the burns on her neck and face. His eyes skipped to the very very painful ones on her side and her throbbing left leg and immediately barked out an order for medical supplies. Marinette might have been used to being the one who commanded the people around her but she recognized that the doctor had more authority than she did when it came to medical issues. The room was quieting done, most of the people in it recognizing Doctor Watson’s authority and that the fact they were trying to crowd an obvious burn victim in need of immediate attention wasn’t helping said victim heal any better and was probably only causing more stress and aggravation to the wounds all over her body.

“Marinette.” Sherlock, as always, was first to break the delicate silence, his fingers steepled and pressed to his lips while he stared at his blogger treat his niece's burns, “Why didn’t you tell us that you were a masked vigilante. And also, why aren’t your wounds healed like that of all the others.”

Marinette was sort of glade he avoided asking about the Miraculous and their powers because that was not a conversation she wanted to have, especially with Sherlock, when she was exhausted and burned, “Well, I didn’t really... I couldn’t tell anyone. No one knows about it, absolutely no one and it was really big risk to tell anyone. I knew you’d all figure it out eventually but I’ve been busy with all the akumas and Hawkmoth and Mayura and all that. I haven’t visited anyone for a while for a reason you know. As for the wounds” -Marinette hissed as Doctor Watson treated a particularly bad burn on her side using the various supplies provided to him by her American uncles and cousins- “because the damage to the city and all that was really bad this time and people were far more injured than I am, I made sure they were focused on first.” 

At the skeptical silence that followed her proclamation, Marinette sheepishly amended, “I forgot about the burns.”

She heard Doctor Watson snort next to her and mutter under his breath, “Now I see how you’re related.” 

Sherlock shot his Doctor an offended glare and Marinette giggled. She liked Doctor Watson. He really was good for Uncle Sherlock. 

“In my defense, I was gonna put aloe vera on it.” Marinette murmured a little grumpily, trying and not succeeding to suppress a flinch caused by too much pressure applied to her lower rib cage and she was suddenly very aware of the beating she had received from that akuma a day or two ago. She should probably be scared how bruised and beaten up her body was but it didn’t matter all that much. She has always had a high pain threshold which was increased even more during her three years as Ladybug, though after nearly being set on fire, she felt justified in finally realizing the full extent of her injuries that accumulated over the last week or so. 

“You have at least one bruised rib.” Doctor Watson stated, his brows furrowed as he examined her more critically, looking beyond the burns he had just treated to the bruises, scraps and cuts and somewhat visible, incorrectly healed bone or two.

“I’m fine.” Marinette visited stubbornly and would have crossed her arms if they hadn’t been bandaged and in pain, which probably proved her more wrong than right but she really couldn’t care right then.

“You’re really not.” Doctor Watson assumed the same tone of voice that he used when Sherlock was being particularly difficult or irrational. He was vindicated to notice Sherlock tense just a little bit out of the corners of his eyes. “You should be in a hospital.”

Tony and Bruce snapped to attention at that. Their niece was in such bad shape that she should be in a dam hospital with potential a few bruised ribs, first and second degree burns all over her body and possibly other elements and she was walking around like barely anything was wrong. She didn’t seem to care about her physical health, didn’t notice her horrid physical state and possibly her deteriorated mental state, considering what she seems to be putting up with. 

“You are going to a hospital.” The two billionaires said at the same time, turning to look at each other with something akin to disgust in the twist of their lips and a strong dislike building in their eyes. Marinette was not going to lie, she would love to see who won between the two of them at any given challenge presented to them.

“No. I’m not. I’ve been fine for the last two years, besides Doctor Watson already treated me. I’m going to be fine.” Let it not be said that stubbornness was not a trait that she learned from her various uncles. She was very very good at it thanks to their various methods rubbing off on her over the years.

“Marinette this is a serious issue. I’m pretty sure you have at least two incorrectly healed bones and who knows what other kind of internal damage.” John was trying to be gentle but still firm with her and she could appreciate his effort, He could see that Sherlock cared about her after all, and he wanted to make sure that Sherlock was okay above all else, which she could appreciate. 

“Judging from your shallow breathing and slight wheezing, something happened to your lungs at some point but it’s hard to tell what with the healing factored in. the way you favor your left leg and lean onto that side indicates that something happened to your right side at some point and you still don’t completely trust them even if the injury happened at least half a year ago.” Sherlock’s eyes were very narrow as his voice slowly faded, the deductions running through his brain too quickly for his mouth and vocal cords to keep up but he would no doubt share his findings later.

All eyes were on Marinette and she couldn’t help but squirm just a tiny bit under her whole extended family’s scrutiny. She knew they meant well, she really did, but being so exposed about everything that was potentially wrong, that she had been ignoring, shoving in a small box at the back of her mind, for almost three years now was not a pleasant experience. 

“Fine. I'll go to the hospital but we are getting a private room, no one is going to know i ever went and I’m calling Uncle Mycroft to make sure we have access to everything we need.”


	4. Chapter 4

“This,”Marinette bemoaned, “seems a little excessive.”

“Nonsense,” Bruce waved her off as the rather large group that was made up of Marinette’s extended family moved through the hospital, completely blocking the petite french teen from view of anyone who might have been in the hospital. 

“You are the one who insisted on getting Mycroft involved,” Sherlock snipped, huffy and irritable as he glared at any and all humans who were unfortunate enough to recive even a passing glance from him. 

As soon as they had arrived at the hospital, a rather put together if slightly frightened doctor greeted them and wordlessly began escorting them into the room that Mycroft had secured upon Marinette’ request. He had insisted that she call them as soon as they were situated and knowing him, it was likely that he and A were already on their way to Paris. Marinette felt sorry for whatever poor nurse or doctor had received the call from Uncle Mycroft, for she was sure he made that call personally. How his influence spread to even France, Marinette didn’t know and wasn’t going to ask for the information -however she wouldn’t reject it if it was offered either. 

“He was the only one of you lot who could possibly secure me a room without causing a commotion.” Sherlock looked at her with that expression that he reserved for when he couldn’t believe someone had missed something so completely obvious that it might have physically pained him. 

“I know, I know. I just didn’t want to call in case he was in the middle of something important. Like making sure the world wasn’t taken over by some ‘criminal mastermind’.”Marinette didn’t use her hands to make the air quotes but they were very heavily implied.

“Hold up,”Tony cut in, “Who in the middle of what?”

Marinette didn’t allow Sherlock to answer, mostly because she feared the consequences of telling Uncle Tones about her youngest uncle. The two of them together would be both amazing and terrifying to behold. Maybe she would introduce them. Under heavily monitored and controlled circumstances. 

“No one in the middle of nothing.”Marinette snapped, feeling tired and in pain despite the painkillers Doctor Watson had her take. 

“Here we are.” The doctor Mycroft had deemed competent enough to assign to her for such a temporary time had been doing an admirable job of not talking at all and pretending like they weren’t having a very strange conversation behind him up until now but it seemed that he finally had to say something.

He opened the door to the room that she had been given and let them file in. Marinette was immediately directed to the hospital bed and Doctor Watson had begun conversing with the doctor who had mercifully been able to speak English. Marinette however did have the concentration required to focus on them as the pain that had dulled to a weak throb came back with a vengeance and her head felt like it had been stabbed with an ax. 

She knew that the edges of her vision beginning to fade to black wasn’t good but she couldn’t really concentrate enough. The exhaustion, burns and countless other injuries that have yet to heal or had healed incorrectly were back with a vengeance. Marinette knew instantly that she was about to pass out. Though that might not be a bad thing, some still lucide part of her brain supplied. It would mean she didn’t have to deal with the pain and that the doctors would probably have an easier time fixing whatever was wrong with her. 

“Marinette!” a panicked chorus of voices was the last thing she was aware of before slumping over and losing consciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Watson watched as Marinette’s heart monitor finally created a constant pattern. The small girl had been in and out of surgeries and treatments for the past four days and she had still yet to wake up. Thank god for long weekends.

Everyone had been in a panic when Marinette had passed out but John was honestly surprised she lasted so long. Many he knew would have lost conscious long before they even made it to the hospital. He had been worried for her but Doctor Benoit was already by her side, which left him to corral and calm the rest of the Family, as he had begun referring to them. 

It hadn’t been easy but he had managed to negotiate a kind of peace between the Waynes, the Starks and the Holmes -and dear god, wasn’t that a strange thing about this. Well, it wasn’t as strange as Sherlock’s niece being a superhero but still. It made the top three. Right between Sherlock himself, and the life John found himself leading now. Anyways, he was getting off track. Well, he supposed that could happen when one hadn’t slept in three and a half days. Goddamnit, focus Watson!

John had managed to negotiate so that at least two of both the Stark and Wayne clans were always present and the Holmes brothers had to alternate because he didn’t really want to deal with both of them in the same room for an extended period of time if it wasn’t absolutely necessary and he was sure the other’s didn’t either. 

The first day Sherlock, Bruce, Tony as well as Jason and Harley had been there. Jason and Harley got along like a house of fire, which was to say that entirely too much for both their parent’s liking but they really didn’t have all that much influence over those two particular kids so it hadn’t mattered all that much in the end. At least they lightened the mood. 

Day two had seen Tim and Bruce from the Wayne clan and Tony and Morgan from the Stark clan as well as Sherlock again. Tim and Tony got along well enough, talking about running their respective companies in broad stroke, as they were still rival companies but their heads could appreciate someone who understood. Morgan had spent most of the day either talking to Bruce about something quite random or sitting next to Marinette and talking to her. 

The third day had been Mycroft -who had come with Anthea-, Dick, Damian -who apparently only Dick and Marinette could get to behave-, Peter and Harley. Peter and Dick got along famously, while Damian seemed to resent Harley for the fact Jason liked him alone. John had thought that rather bizarre but then again, Sherlock also resented many things to do with Mycroft for the simple yet complicated reason of Mycroft so he didn’t know why he was so surprised.

On the fourth day Mycroft was there, sitting in the corner of Marinette’s room and working on his laptop while Jason told Morgan, who was sitting on Marinette’s bed, stories about Gotham and a bunch of other places he has apperanly visited. Tim was also working on his laptop, though he sat next to Jason while on the other side of the bed Peter dozed in a rather uncomfortable hospital chair. John himself had been there each and every day to monitor both Marinette and her visitors to make sure there would be no incidents between any of them. Blessedly, so far nothing had gone spectacularly wrong. 

John could only hope that nothing would go so wrong again for a while yet. Or at least until Marinette woke up. She seemed to be the only one who could make all three distinct families get along. He himself only succeeded in curbing the larger problems.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Marinette became aware of was the sound of Jason and Morgan’s voices, though she couldn’t make out the precise words they were saying. Next was the tapping of Uncle Myc’s computer keys, followed shortly by Peter’s soft snores. Her eyelids felt heavy and she woke up in slow increments. She could barely feel her arms and legs. Correction, she could barely feel any parts of her body beyond the general sense they were still connected to her. 

“Mari?” Morgan’s soft voice broke through her lazy thoughts, the first coherent word she could concentrate on. 

Marinette felt her eyes open in a reaction to the seizing of all noise around her. Morgan’s grinning face hovered over her, the child's brown hair glowing like a halo around her head in the bright light of the sunset. Morgan looked like an angel and Marinette couldn’t help the relieved smile that made its way onto her lips. 

“H...hey Mor,”Marinette croaked, her throat dry and her brain slow, mostly likely due to whatever drugs she was on.

Morgan’s whole being lit up as she whirled around and cried, “Call Daddy! Mari’s awake!”


End file.
